Someone Missed Personal Space Day In Kindergarten, Part 3

My stint working on a tech support call center job was interesting in terms of interactions with customers and all the different people that came and went over the years. I’d have to say that there is at least one employee who stands out to me to this day: Mr. I Don’t Understand Personal Space (Mr. IDUPS).

There was a time — okay, it was pretty much the whole four to five years I worked there — when the place was always just trying to find warm bodies to fill entry-level spots. We’d get people starting, and within a day or two, we’d never see them again. If we were lucky, they’d stick around for a month or two before leaving. I chalked it up to low pay and absolutely zero training before people were released to the wolves as they were left to answer the phones and try to help customers out on their own. (Honestly, it was nerve-wracking; I remember those days when I started.) 

One guy that the floor manager hired was not a good fit from the start. The floor manager explained to me that the guy was a recovering alcoholic. This was not something I needed to know, but maybe it explains some of his behaviour? He was much older than anyone else on the floor and his knowledge of computers was very limited. Like I said, sometimes they just needed warm bodies. 

With practically zero training set up for new employees, it was a cluster on the floor almost every day. We had new people who knew nothing and all they were basically able to do was answer the phone, make a work ticket, and inform the customer that, “We’ll be looking into the issue and call you back right away.” Techs that stuck around a few weeks to a month or two eventually learned some of the basics, and they could resolve about a third of the calls they handled, but not Mr. IDUPS. 

Mr. IDUPS, as willing as he was, didn’t seem to retain any information, and he’d been there a month when this story happened. If the company had some sort of knowledge base to go off of, it would have been greatly beneficial to people like Mr. IDUPS. Unfortunately, you needed to learn on the go and retain information.

After a month of Mr. IDUPS being employed, we could tell he was always eager and willing to put his all into the work, but when he was constantly getting up from his desk to track down someone knowledgeable to find out how to resolve the issue he was working on, it became a burden on us all. When he came up to us to talk, he’d stand so close that his body was either touching us or just an inch or two away, and then he leaned in really close like he wanted to give us a kiss on the cheek. He had zero awareness of personal space.

Everyone just seemed to accept that that was the way he was, and somehow, they all seemed to tolerate it. I, on the other hand, don’t like to be crowded. Generally, when Mr. IDUPS needed help, he didn’t make it all the way down to my cubicle; I had buffers (a few other experienced techs sitting between my desk and Mr. IDUPS’s desk) and he bugged them. That is, until one day when my buffers were away from their desks.

I was busy working on a call — my more experienced colleagues and I worked on the hard issues that caused system failures on customer ends — and unbeknownst to me, Mr. IDUPS had been quietly standing behind me for maybe eight to ten minutes waiting for me to get off my call. Per our call resolution, entry-level techs shouldn’t be on a call for over five minutes unless they got their supervisor’s permission, but here was Mr. IDUPS standing away from his desk for nearly ten minutes. As soon as I hung up with the customer I was helping, Mr. IDUPS did his usual: he walked up, stood so close that he was touching me, leaned over my shoulder, and put his face right next to mine.

Me: “Dude. You need to back up.”

Mr. IDUPS: “What?”

I swiveled my chair as best I could to face him. I made a fist, placed it against his chest, and pushed him away.

Me: “I said, you need to back the f*** up. I can hear you just fine without you leaning up on me or being right in my face. If I can put my arm out and touch you, you’re too close.”

Mr. IDUPS: “Oh. I just needed some help with a call I’m on.”

I looked at the phone HUD and saw that he’d been on a call for ten-plus minutes, and most of it had been him just standing by me hoping to get an answer.

Me: “You’re way over on your call time. You need to end the call and inform the customer that you’re moving the ticket to an experienced tech and we’ll get back to them as soon as possible.”

Mr. IDUPS: “Well, I just…”

He started moving closer to me and began to lean down toward my face as he was trying to explain the issue.

Mr. IDUPS: “…wanted to…”

Me: “Stop.”

I extended my arm out again to keep him from getting any closer.

Me: “You need to keep back. I don’t need you crowding my personal space. Go back to your desk. Talk to your supervisor first; if he needs you to come to us, he’ll let us know.”

Mr. IDUPS: “…okay.”

After that interaction, he kept his distance from me when he did have to come to talk to me, but for everyone else, he still got right in their faces and leaned up on them as he spoke to them. Nice guy, but zero understanding of personal space.

Related:
Someone Missed Personal Space Day In Kindergarten, Part 2
Someone Missed Personal Space Day In Kindergarten